


The Mixtape

by impalawinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalawinchester/pseuds/impalawinchester
Summary: Dean can't sleep, but when he decides to go for a ride to clear his head, he discovers Castiel.





	The Mixtape

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Destiel fic! Lmk what you think!! (this is for you, Nia)

Dean woke up with a start, his heart pounding, body slick with sweat and sheets damp and twisted from his writhing, thrashing body. The nightmare faded before he could grab it, so he let his head hang while he caught his breath. 

He looked at the clock – 3:09 A.M. He’d managed four hours of sleep, and that was generally enough for him. It couldn’t be healthy, and he wished he could pass out for hours and wake up blissfully, but damn him if he would. 

So he threw his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his boots without even socks and without changing into his usual attire. Then he tiptoed through the bunker, quiet as he could past Sam’s room, and he grabbed his keys before he headed outside.

The night air was cold, and Dean was only wearing a tee shirt, so the thin cotton clung to his skin and his sweat dried uncomfortably. 

Around the bend, the Impala sat running, lights flicked off but engine puffing out exhaust. Cas was sitting in the passenger seat, staring intently at the radio. Dean chuckled – Cas was a strange one indeed. 

He opened the driver’s door and climbed in, startling Cas. 

“Oh. Hello, Dean. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Do you know who you’re talking to, Cas?” Dean asked with another laugh, but it was forced that time. 

Cas sat back, and Dean settled into the familiar leather seat of the Impala. Zeppelin was playing quietly. 

“I don’t understand," Cas said after a moment, "Why does this man believe that a mere mortal woman is capable of buying a stairway to heaven? Assuming there even exists such a thing.”

Dean laughed. Stairway to Heaven was playing, the gentle chords filling up the car. Cas’s face twisted with confusion, his eyebrows drawn together, lips pressed into a firm line, which Dean tore his eyes away from. 

“Why are you listening to one of my tapes?” he asked.

Cas held up an empty cassette case – the mixtape’s case that Dean had gifted to him a while back. 

“There’s not much to do while you and your brother are asleep,” Cas told Dean, “and I didn’t quite understand this gesture of sentimentality. But I do enjoy these songs.” 

Over The Hills and Far Away came on and Dean turned up the volume, but Cas seemed eager to get back to the apparent issue at hand. 

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked. 

“Because my guardian angel is out here instead of watching over me,” Dean said, turning to face Cas, voice low and thick with sleep still but it had a note of something alluring in it. Cas narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t like when I watch over you.”

“Sure I do. What would I do without my angel?” Dean asked and gave Cas one of his shit-eating grins, leaning in closer still. 

“I assume you’d get drunk. That’s generally what you tend to do in stressful situations,” Cas answered and looked away, out the window. Dean chuckled lightly at Cas’s obliviousness to his close proximity and flirting tone. 

“You know, it’s toxic for the liver. Sam’s body is much better condition from his diet – ” Cas continued, but Dean cut him off.

“Don’t talk about Sammy while I’m kissing you,” Dean growled and their lips collided in a messy, uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. Dean left Cas gasping and bewildered, his eyes narrowed at Dean.

“I didn’t think you were drunk now, Dean.”

“I’m not drunk, Cas.”

“I don’t understand.” Dean sighed and sat back, rubbing his face.

“This life is hard enough as it is. Shoot me for wanting to enjoy it a little bit.” 

“Dean, I am not one of those women in the porn. And you are not the pizza man,” Cas reminded Dean. 

The older Winchester huffed and uselessly put his hands on the wheel. 

“Yeah, Cas, I know.”

“Then why the romantic advances?”

“Seemed like a romantic opportunity,” Dean said with a shrug and a strained smile. What had he been thinking? Making a move on Cas? As if he had any interest? He threw a quick goodnight over his shoulder, opened the car door and started to get out, but Cas pulled him back down. The cold air bit at his neck, at his back through his tee shirt. Cas’s hand was warm where it was wrapped around his forearm. 

“Your pulse is very quick, Dean.” Dean sat stone still, eyes watching Cas figure it out. The mixtape. The special smiles only directed at him. The laugh reserved for every instance Cas said something because he missed a social cue. The spontaneous, heated kiss. The racing heartbeat. The look in Dean’s eyes right at that instant. The look of a man vulnerable. 

Cas’s face softened with the realization, eyes blinking at the new information, head tilted to the side to observe further the righteous man who’d someone fallen in love with an angel. 

Dean laughed to break the tension, joking that Cas was looking at him funny now. But Cas didn’t laugh. He reached over Dean, so very close to his face, breath making goosebumps rise along Dean’s skin. He was serious as always, and Dean maintained the eye-contact with a held breath.

Cas closed the driver’s door and sealed them in the car again. His hand gently touched Dean’s waist, holding him still. Experimentally, he kissed Dean, just a gentle press of lips together. Dean sighed into it, his own hands floating around Cas, unsure of how to touch the man that was not only his best friend, but also the man he loved. 

“Dean Winchester, do you love me?” Cas asked mere centimeters from Dean’s face, and Dean could only nod. 

Cas smiled, cupped Dean’s cheek, and pulled him close again for another kiss. Dean’s left hand curled into the hair at the base of Cas’s neck, his other hand pulling him closer still by the trench coat.

Dean smiled against his Cas’s lips, Zeppelin playing softly in the car around them, and Dean knew that finally finally finally he’d be able to sleep at night with his guardian angel sharing the bed.


End file.
